


Cloudtouched (Working Title)

by dreamclaws



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Action/Adventure, Disabled Character, Dragons, Gen, Lore - Freeform, Magic, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, POV Original Character, Plot, Strong Female Characters, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamclaws/pseuds/dreamclaws
Summary: Over the past few decades, a change has come over Sornieth. Dragons are becoming greedier, forests are dying, and the grip of a malevolent force is tightening across the territories. Ayla, a humble Fae priestess, notices her beloved father figure driven out of the local bazaar. Lyris, a Snapper shaman, has found her connection to the deities severed. Uttenu, an Imperial caring for his family, learns his employer is more sinister than he thinks.Thankfully, there are mysterious groups fighting back for a more just Sornieth. The three dragons find their stories entwined in unexpected ways. But as the grip tightens, their challenges grow. In order to preserve Sornieth and all they love, they must join the fight to restore balance to the world.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	1. Ayla

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, thanks for clicking on my new Flight Rising fanfic. I have a lot of this planned out already but welcome your feedback. I used to write novels for a living and got burned out, so I wanted to write my very first fanfic as a foray back into writing for fun. I hope you enjoy it.

Ayla’s heart soared when the glint of soft gold caught her eye. The flax-colored Fae swooped down and landed in the tender grass that surrounded the egg, which pulsed with light in time with the heartbeat of the hatchling inside.

Ayla placed a careful claw on the smooth surface, marveling at how the glassy shell simultaneously reflected sunlight while letting her see the glow that held the hatchling.

She would never get tired of this, the best part of her job—giving abandoned hatchlings a home. After all, ever since the priestesses of Dawn’s Light took her in, she’d felt the strong urge to pay their kindness forward.

Leaning on her cane for support, she swung her pack off her shoulder and extricated her wing, then rolled the egg in, securing it by strapping the pack’s cover over it. The egg was heavy, but Meanma had enchanted the pack to make burdens easier to bear. And Ayla herself was a strong flier. After she took off into the air, she could shoulder the weight of the egg easily.

But she didn’t want to go straight home. There was no need, since today was an egg-finding day; she didn’t have any other chores back at the temple. And the egg itself would be fine if it didn’t get into a nest right away. She could feel it pulse with warmth against her back and fancied that it might like going on an adventure with her.

The weather was breezy with strong sun, and Ayla found herself getting a little hot between the egg against her back and her proximity to the sunlight. She dipped below, spotting the multicolored tents of the Grand Bazaar.

The Bazaar had been around for decades, but even in the years since Ayla had joined the temple, it had changed a surprising amount. When Ayla had been a younger dragon, barely entering her teens, she remembered it being quieter, more spread out. There was no jingle of metal coins and shouting of traders. Back then, you could barter for most of what you needed, but gold and other precious metals were what most vendors preferred now. It wasn’t like dragons had anything to barter with, anyway. Fewer people had their own vegetable gardens or produced their own goods. Now you could get it all at the Bazaar.

And what a wondrous place it was—Ayla could remember when the foreign traders had started to come, bringing strange foods and trinkets from distant territories. She couldn’t help but love how the Bazaar sparked her imagination, inspired wanderlust in her heart.

But Meanma didn’t like the Bazaar. She said it used to be tiny. In fact, the Sunbeam Ruins—the landmark that gave Sunbeam Village its name—used to be a place mostly for scholars. They would be here at all hours, poring over the artifacts embedded in the ground.

Ayla found it hard to believe. There were still scholars here, of course—the ruins themselves were hulking monuments to a past people, and brought in their fair share of tourists as well as researchers. But now they primarily functioned as a place to hang out after a day of shopping. Families sprawled across the stone slabs eating picnics or playing games in the grass.

Ayla landed among the ruins, watching the entrance to the Bazaar. Something was different today. It wasn’t just the new fence they’d put up around the perimeter of the Bazaar, effectively cutting off some of the ruins from the others. Nor was it the guards around the fence—they’d been there for a while now.

She walked toward the entrance, slowly and steadily using her cane to navigate the tufts of grass and stray rocks, some of which were the size of her head. Despite being a younger dragon, Ayla had learned patience not only from the other priestesses but also from having to adapt to her disabled leg.

She approached the entrance and got in line; it seemed like the line got a little bit longer every month, though it always moved at a brisk pace.

Ayla noticed too late that the dragon in front of her had flashed a slip of paper with a large purple stamp on it.

“Pass?” asked the guard, a suspicious-looking pale green Pearlcatcher with a shimmering filigree across his face like a mask.

“Pass?” Ayla repeated. “I… What are you talking about?”

“Need a pass to go in,” said the Pearlcatcher. The line started moving again without Ayla and she watched as all the dragons behind her displayed their purple-stamped papers and were waved in.

“Since when?” asked Ayla. “Is this new?”

The Pearlcatcher nodded, relaxing now that he seemed to realize Ayla was truly clueless. “New rule from just a couple days ago. You need to buy a bazaar pass to enter. You can get one there.” He tilted his head toward another Pearlcatcher who was sitting at a slab of rock to the side. Ayla could see the purple ink and stained stamp right there.

“Thanks,” she said, but the guard didn’t seem to hear her. She walked to the Pearlcatcher at the slab.

“I’m here about a pass?” she said, still uncertain. It seemed ludicrous that anyone would need a pass to get into the Bazaar—a place she was so used to entering freely from her childhood—but here she was.

The Pearlcatcher slid a piece of paper already stamped in front of her. “Five pieces of gold, and you just have to sign it,” he said. “Lasts three months, then you renew.” His golden filigree glinted in the sun, which was stronger now, and she wondered if both the Pearlcatchers were brothers.

She swung her bag around and started to rifle through an outer pocket for coins. “Wait a minute,” she said, pausing. “Did you say _five_ pieces of gold?”

“That’s right,” said the guard.

Ayla hesitated, then swung her bag back around. “I don’t have five pieces,” she said.

“Come back when you do, then,” said the guard, sliding the paper back. He waved an unseen dragon over, and Ayla saw that a small line had formed behind her.

Without another word, she left to go back to the ruins, sitting down on a sun-warmed slab of stone. Her head spun as she processed this new development.

Five pieces of gold for access to the Bazaar for only three months was unreasonable. Yet from the air, she’d seen that it was as populated as ever. How had everyone been able to scrape up the cash?

Then again, maybe they hadn’t had a choice. The Bazaar was by far the best place to get everything a dragon needed. Not everyone could maintain a garden like the priestesses did, so where else would they get their food? Hunting and fishing took time. Meanma had told stories of how things were in her youth, how everyone had had a role in their clan and they’d shared everything. Meanma’s father had been a fisher, and he and his assistant caught all the seafood for the clan. Meanma’s mother and her sisters had been farmers and tended the vegetable garden. They’d never needed to spend gold at the Bazaar, much less spend gold in order to spend gold. Everyone provided for each other.

And the pass had required a signature, Ayla realized. So that meant the priestesses couldn’t all share one pass. One person would have to be designated to do all the shopping.

The priestesses were fairly self-sufficient in terms of food, but like everyone else in Sunbeam Village—and the surrounding villages—they’d come to depend on the Bazaar for many things. And they’d become used to the comfort of being able to get whatever they wanted as well.

Ayla decided to walk; there was no point in moping over her current situation. She’d make sure the other priestesses knew about this and they’d decide what to do together. For now, she could at least enjoy a pleasant outing around the Sunbeam Ruins. After all, she wasn’t alone. The egg’s weight and warmth comforted her.

As she walked, a thought struck her—who exactly was collecting the gold from the sale of the passes? And who did the guards work for? She hadn’t questioned it before, assuming perhaps that the guards worked for the village. When she’d been younger, guards had to protect their food stores from raids by the beastclans or just wild animals, so their presence had seemed natural.

Questions roiled in her mind as she turned around a corner of the fence. She was pulled out of her thoughts when her eyes caught a glint of something.

Years of practice searching for eggs had given her a good eye. Ayla walked toward the glint, something shining from under the trunks of a cluster of trees. She could see it more easily as a Fae; a taller dragon would not be able to see it from their angle.

Ayla ducked under the lowest branches of the tree and saw a hole in the fence through which a gutter exited. She didn’t know where the water was coming from—she could only hear the chatter of the Bazaar, a conglomeration of sounds that were incomprehensible all together. But more importantly, the hole was big enough for her to squeeze through.

She took the backpack off and peeked her head under the fence, next to the gutter. The hole was hidden from the rest of the Bazaar by the back of someone’s tent. Good enough—she pushed herself through, then pulled the bag and her cane in after her. She put it back on, brushed the dirt off her wings, and strolled past the tent as if she was just walking by.

And no one noticed. She was in. Ayla’s heart fluttered in triumph, and she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She wasn’t a goody-goody, but she wasn’t usually this daring either. But the opportunity _had_ presented itself.

There were hundreds of dragons in here, and few guards. She was confident she’d be fine now that she’d blended in, and she relaxed, enjoying the sights of the Bazaar as usual.

Nothing else was different at first glance. Ayla traded a piece of quartz for a kebab of spiced locusts, crunching happily as she took in the sights. She spotted a vendor she hadn’t seen before who was selling painted ceramic pots; the priestesses who worked on the flower garden might appreciate those, and she made a mental note to tell them.

Ayla’s feet took her on a familiar path, and as she reached the opposite side of the Bazaar from the entrance, she expected to see her old friend, Berach.

The elderly Bogsneak was like a father to her. He’d been the one who’d taken her in after her parents had passed, before she’d decided to join the priestesses. Now he ran a shop at the Bazaar where he sold carrots from his garden. In later years he’d expanded to include other vegetables, and even some herbs, but carrots, for some reason, were his primary interest. He’d explained his love of carrots to Ayla several times, but she’d never truly understood.

Ayla’s heart filled with warmth as she remembered helping Berach in his garden as a child. Her favorite thing to do was move some dirt to peek and check the progress of the carrots. She was so impatient back then, barely able to wait for them to be big enough to harvest. Berach’s steady patience had seemed downright saintly to her frenetic child mind. As an adult, without the excess energy of youth, she found herself having learned from him. Now she remembered the lessons she’d learned in his garden when tending to her own.

But she was jarred back into the present when she realized the piles of orange carrots were now nowhere to be found. She looked around the vicinity more in case he’d moved his stall, but only saw the other usual vendors. Berach’s spot was now taken by a young Gaoler who was selling crystal jewelry.

She looked friendly enough, so Ayla approached. The Gaoler brushed pink fur out of her eyes and smiled brightly at Ayla. “Hello! Can I help you?”

Ayla returned the smile. “I was just wondering if you knew what happened to the Bogsneak who was here before,” she said. “He used to sell carrots, mainly.”

The Gaoler’s smile faded. “I don’t know,” she replied, shaking her head. “There’s a waitlist to become a vendor here, and they just told me a couple days ago that a spot had opened up.”

The cogs started turning in Ayla’s mind. “That’s odd.” She looked away, thinking. The passes had become instituted a couple days ago as well.

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” said the Gaoler.

Ayla turned back to the jeweler and smiled again. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” she said. “I hope you do well.”

“Thank you,” said the Gaoler, and Ayla left, eager to get out of there and find Berach.

Berach was an institution at the Bazaar. Meanma had said he’d been there for decades. Ayla had never known him to miss a day. So what was wrong? Had something happened to him? Perhaps his health had taken a turn for the worse, or maybe there was some other emergency… But she’d have heard if that was the case, right?

Finding out what had happened to Berach became Ayla’s newest priority.


	2. Lyris

“Exalted Felia of the Gladekeeper, I trust these blessed leaves will reach you…”

Lyris trailed off as the greenish glow on the leaves faded, flickering twice as if the last bits of magical energy were trying their hardest.

She was trying her hardest too. But lately, that hadn’t been enough.

The blue-eyed Snapper growled in frustration, her temper rising yet again. But she needed to reach Felia, and in order to even have a chance of making the connection, she couldn’t let her emotions take over.

She splashed some water from a bowl on her face and took a few deep breaths, centering herself—and her magic—again. She closed her eyes and imagined Felia’s face, the Skydancer’s mint green visage swimming into view.

Lyris could feel the magic in the leaves gathering itself again and summoned it out, using it to make Felia’s face more visible. In her mind’s eye, she could see the exalted dragon clearly, her feathers detailed and every scale on her eye ridges appearing.

“Exalted Felia of the Gladekeeper,” she murmured, “I trust these blessed leaves will reach you…”

With a feeling like a soft click, something snapped into place and Felia was there, pale green with soft blue feathers, a pastel apparition from the other plane. It was like she and Lyris were together in a room without form, a space between worlds.

“Lyris, that you? I wondered when I’d see you,” said the exaltee.

A sense of urgency flooded Lyris, as she didn’t know when the connection would be cut off. “I’ve been having trouble reaching you,” she said. “Something’s interfering with my connection to the other plane, and it’s getting worse.”

Felia nodded as if this wasn’t news to her. “Others who’ve tried to reach me have said the same. Some I haven’t heard from at all, in… weeks? Months? I don’t know.”

Of course, she wouldn’t. Time worked differently over there than it did here.

Lyris shook her head. Part of her had been hoping she was the only one with this problem. If it was beyond just her, that meant something was really wrong.

“Did any of them say what it could be?” she asked. “I’ve tried everything. Different spells and materials, working with other people…”

Felia sighed. “I did hear something. There’s a group working to figure things out. They’re in the Nature territory, so you could find them eas—”

Felia’s voice faded like it was carried on the wind, even though her mouth was still moving. Lyris tried her best to keep her emotions tamped down. If her anger rose again, then the connection would fade faster.

She took another deep breath and centered herself, this time surprised to catch the scent of something like ash. It must have come from the other plane.

Felia’s voice cut back in. “—miners have been working near the Behemoth,” she finished.

“I missed a lot of what you said due to the bad connection,” said Lyris regretfully. But I should head to the Behemoth?”

Felia nodded. “The Veins,” she said. “That’s the name of the group. Look for the Veins.”

Lyris steeled herself with new determination, feeling for the first time in a long while like she could actually do something about this whole mess. “Alright, I’ll do that.”

Felia lifted her hand and reached out like she could touch Lyris. The Snapper’s heart felt tugged toward her. So near, yet so far. If Felia actually tried to touch her, her hand would pass through Lyris’s body like a ghost.

“Until next time,” said Lyris, trying to prevent her voice from cracking.

“Until next time,” said Felia, and her image started to fade, the details dissipating until she was just shapes, and then those shapes fading into mist.

Lyris opened her eyes.

Despite her connection to the exaltees, she didn’t understand why they did what they did. She couldn’t imagine leaving this world in the prime of her life to serve deities on another plane. It was almost like dying, except you could kind of keep in touch with loved ones you’d left behind. Felia had told her what life was like there and how happy she was with her choice, but it never made much sense to Lyris. Despite her spiritual nature, the Snapper loved food and other sensory pleasures too much to become exalted.

In any case, she could serve the deities just fine as a shaman here on this plane. It wasn’t just exaltees that were needed. After all, who would translate messages between worlds, if not shamans?

And the exaltees couldn’t take action on this plane. Felia had told her to find a group called the Veins somewhere near the Behemoth, and now Lyris had a mission. If something was happening to threaten the Behemoth, the most sacred of places for Nature dragons, it was up to Lyris to find out and convey her findings back to Felia.

Despite being born on the shore near the Fishspine Reef, Lyris had spent most of her adult life in the Nature territory, and the vast forest had become as familiar to her as her own tail. But she didn’t live anywhere near the Behemoth, preferring to stay closer to the Sea of a Thousand Currents so she could visit her family. She would have to go home and prepare for the trek.

She ambled back down the path, propelled by a new sense of urgency that now had direction. She’d yearned for so long to find out what was wrong so she could do something about it, a dragon of action rather than passivity. Part of her was itching at the prospect of learning something new for a change.

She got back to her clan’s grounds. The term clan was more loosely applied here than to other groups; the shamans she lived with were all loners and had come together solely for the purpose of sharing resources. They didn’t often see each other, being sparsely scattered across the grounds, though there were a few members who were not shamans at all and simply managed supplies for the whole clan.

Lyris passed by one of them now: Eldis, a Coatl who was the head cook for the clan. He was carrying a covered bowl of something on a tray, with some slices of fruit tucked to the side.

“Herra’s sick,” he said, forgoing a greeting. “This soup should pick him right up.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Lyris absently, her mind racing with thoughts of her impending journey.

Eldis paused. “You seem preoccupied.”

How to explain everything that had just happened? “Weird conversation with an exaltee,” she said, shrugging. It was a decent explanation to give a non-shaman.

Eldis nodded, used to dealing with shamans and hearing their stories. “Was it Toris again? I swear he became even stranger after transcending to the other plane… Lightweaver has no idea what she got into with him.” He chuckled.

Eldis’s lighthearted manner put Lyris at ease, allowing her to slow down a little. “Nah, it was Felia… I actually have to take a trip to the Behemoth, so I might be by to pick up some provisions.”

“Koki’s on duty all day baking bread so he can help you,” said Eldis. “Anyway, this soup is going to get cold.”

“See you,” she said, and Eldis nodded at her before slinking off again, carefully avoiding spilling the soup. It was fortunate for Herra that he lived so close to the kitchens.

Lyris didn’t live too far herself, and despite her Snapper bulk she gracefully made her way up the thin but strong branch, which was bolstered with thick vines. This led to a platform on which her treehouse was built.

Lyris didn’t think she’d ever want to live in a treehouse, especially as a Snapper who’d grown up in the relatively even shores of the Tsunami Flats. But it was the only house available when she’d arrived in her clan and she’d made the adjustment. Now she couldn’t imagine anything better.

A number of bird feeders and bird houses lined the trunk next to her house and hung from branches above. Koki took care of these, usually—shamans weren’t known for being particularly responsible about their earthly needs. She appreciated it every time she was woken by a beautiful snippet of song.

Lyris had been on trips to the Behemoth before; it was necessary for those who worked closely with the Gladekeeper. She knew exactly what she needed to pack, and found that most of it was already together from the last time she’d gone over there.

Before leaving she took a moment to pause and scan her home, checking to see if she’d forgotten anything. She was neater than some shamans, being more grounded than them, and kept her small space tidy. Thin linen blankets were folded on her bed and a few printed pictures lined her walls. Big windows let in a lot of light, while heavy curtains allowed her to block it when she needed darkness. Lyris didn’t have many possessions, but a small shelf held various trinkets she’d received from friends and collected on her travels. A fabric owlynx doll blinked at her with wide eyes.

She patted her bag; she had everything. Lyris closed her door and left, clambering back down the vine-covered branch and setting off to see Koki.

The kitchens were located at the center of the clan grounds. Several open buildings sat in a ring—sheds for storing food and materials as well as a couple of workspaces. The clan members had worked hard to beautify the place, and the buildings were painted with almost garish murals of flowers. Real flowers also abounded, set against the buildings themselves and arranged around an outdoor eating area in the center of the clearing. A hummingbird zoomed by Lyris’s face right before she spotted Koki.

The surprisingly stocky Fae was hard at work baking like Eldis had said. As a Fae, he was small enough to sit on the table, crouched over a loaf he was kneading. His strong arms pushed and pulled at the dough, working it with practiced technique. Lyris had helped out in the kitchens before—all the clan members pitched in from time to time—and she was well aware of how hard Koki and Eldis worked.

Koki saw Lyris as she walked closer and stopped kneading the loaf, scampering to the edge of the table. “Haven’t seen you in a while, Lyris,” he said. “You like that herb loaf I gave you last time?”

Lyris had to think a moment; she’d eaten the loaf so quickly that she’d almost forgotten about it. “You’ll have to give me a half dozen next time,” she admitted. “I think I polished the whole thing off immediately.”

Koki swelled with pride. “The whole clan loved them. Eldis helped me barter some to the neighboring clans too. We could get a reputation for shamanism and bread-making.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Lyris, a smile escaping her. “I’m actually here because I wanted to pick up some snacks for a trek to the Behemoth.”

Koki tilted his head. “It’s a bit late already. Will you be staying overnight?”

Lyris patted her bedroll. “Yes. I’m considering staying with a friend’s clan if I make it there in time, but if not, I’ll just camp.” She shrugged. “I’ve done it a hundred times before.”

Koki shook his head as he turned to his stores to get what Lyris wanted. The large wooden sheds full of boxes and boxes of food had been built decades ago and withstood the test of time. Koki grabbed some fruit he knew was Lyris’s favorite, and had to hover up to get loaves of bread off of a higher shelf. “I’ll never understand you folks!” he exclaimed. “Going without the simplest creature comforts.”

He placed the food into a beautifully woven pouch decorated with daffodils, the symbol of their clan, and returned to Lyris. “Some of the fruit and nut bars you liked, as well as fresh fruit, bread, and a couple fish pies.”

“Perfect,” said Lyris, beaming. The pouch was warm thanks to the freshness of the bread and she’d have tucked into it immediately if she didn’t need to save it.

“Be safe,” said Koki. He didn’t wait for her to respond before checking on some bread in one of his earthen ovens, then going back to kneading. Lyris watched him for a moment, then left.

Snappers couldn’t fly, a fact that plagued Lyris. Most Snappers were content being earthbound, but Lyris wasn’t, not when every other kind of dragon could fly. When she was a hatchling her mother had told her all these stories about the way of the Snapper, and how they had greater wisdom from being connected to the earth, but Lyris didn’t buy it. As far as she was concerned, those were all things dragons said to avoid feeling bad about not being able to fly.

With a _humph_ , she set off on her journey, following the main trail out of the clan grounds. Her stomach grumbled, and she couldn’t help but pull a persimmon out of the pouch already, biting into it with pleasure.

No, they didn’t have food like this in the other plane, if they had food at all. Felia had no idea what she was missing out on!


	3. Uttenu

Uttenu’s mother held his face with one hand and one stump, her whiskers twitching as she gazed upon him with love.

“Tenu, baby, we are _so_ proud of you,” she said. “I know you’re going to get this. You’re the hardest working and most competent dragon there. You deserve it.”

“And if they don’t see that, bah! Their loss,” grumbled Uttenu’s father, limping up behind her.

Uttenu’s mother let go and stepped back into the embrace of her mate. “Whatever happens, I’ll have your favorite meal waiting when you come home.”

“Thanks, Ma,” he said, returning her warmth as best he could despite the anxiety gripping his heart.

“Daddy!” squeaked a sleepy voice from another room. The thump of Delia’s feet grew louder and she barreled past her grandparents and into her father’s waiting legs. Uttenu bent down and nuzzled his daughter, her whiskers tickling his face.

She pulled back. “I love you,” she said, beaming at him, her eyes still half-lidded. A loud yawn escaped her.

“It’s a big day for your daddy,” said Uttenu’s mother. “Let’s let him go so he isn’t late.”

Like a little blue snake, Delia slithered behind her grandmother’s legs, peering out cheekily from behind them. It was amazing how fast hatchlings could wake up in the morning. They didn’t even need coffee.

“I love you too, Delia,” Uttenu said.

Delia’s cherubic face usually loosened the grip of anxiety, but today it was just too strong. He leaned forward to kiss her on the head then stepped back, grabbing his little wrist bag and tying the strap around an arm. He kept most of his things at the office.

The bright blue Imperial nodded goodbye to his family and left his house, taking off with powerful wingbeats. He turned around briefly and saw them watching him leave, growing smaller by the second. Delia waved vigorously, now fully awake, and he waved back, unsure if she could even see him do so.

Uttenu was due for a promotion today. He’d worked long and hard for the last few years trying to prove himself. It was all but guaranteed that he would be selected, but he didn’t want to count on it until it was confirmed. Even after today he felt like he wouldn’t believe it until he’d been solidly in his new seat for a week.

His wide wings carried him aloft, toward the highest plateau where his office was located. The Cloudscrape Society, true to its name, kept its offices in locations that weren’t quite hidden, but were certainly inaccessible, buried in the clouds. He could barely see the imposing building until it was a few hundred yards in front of him.

The building was largely made of glass, which seemed pointless considering the clouds blocked out much of the view of the town below. Instead, they got a front-row view of the thunderstorms this part of the Lightning territory was known for. He could already see one forming in the distance, dark thunderheads slowly billowing out like blooms of ink in water.

The building was already buzzing with activity. The Society was a huge organization; this was, after all, only one of their regional offices, but Uttenu could easily see at least a hundred dragons milling about outside. Several stories of offices contained them all, though there were also larger spaces for research and development and other projects Uttenu wasn’t privy to. He wasn’t sure any one member was privy to all of them. The Society was like an octopus, with tentacles reaching into the farthest corners of Sornieth, and Stormcatcher only knew what happened out there.

Uttenu took a deep breath and entered the building, the automatic doors sliding open for him and shutting smoothly closed. No one else in Sornieth, to his knowledge, had technology like this. He wasn’t even sure most dragons knew it existed. He couldn’t even tell his own family about it, bound by the contracts he’d signed when he started working here. They just knew he worked for the Society itself, a prestigious position among some circles.

He’d just arrived at his desk and gotten settled, looking over memos that had been left for him, when Solaria approached him.

The reddish-pink Imperial had shimmering scales—Iridescent, he thought, one of the genes considered valuable by the kind of folks who worked here—that dazzled him this early in the morning. He hadn’t been able to sleep well last night.

With a cool gaze, Solaria spoke. “He wants to see you immediately.” Her electric blue eyes glinted. Everyone knew he was going to get this promotion. He suddenly wondered if Solaria had been angling for it herself. He didn’t think so, but…

“Thank you,” he said, returning her coolness, and she left without a word.

Solaria didn’t like Uttenu very much because he’d turned her down multiple times. Even now she’d flirt with him unexpectedly, always catching him off guard because of how hot and cold she was. She was a beautiful dragon, that was for sure. Maybe in his youth he’d have gone for someone like her.

But she wasn’t Asiri.

Asiri, his irreplaceable mate, Delia’s mother, beloved daughter-in-law. Everyone who met Asiri loved her. She was a ray of sunshine second only to the Lightweaver herself. Everyone down at the mines adored her cheerful attitude and the care she paid to each worker.

Her death in the accident that had maimed his parents had created a hole in the world, a hole that even now yawned in his mind with deafening silence, constantly reminding him of its presence.

Little wonder he had any time for someone like Solaria.

He sighed and prepared himself for his meeting with his boss. He should have felt happy today. This promotion would open up so many more possibilities for him. He could afford better care for his parents and send Delia to a better school. Why couldn’t he just be happy for once?

He was barely aware of the walk to his boss’s office and the ride up the lift, but he found himself outside the door, which slid open and let him into an antechamber where his boss’s assistant waited.

The bored-sounding Pearlcatcher didn’t even look up when he asked Uttenu to wait.

Uttenu walked to the huge window and watched the storm draw nearer. It used to be said that the bigger the storm, the happier the Stormcatcher was. But no one believed the Stormcatcher had any influence over the storms anymore. It wasn’t like the deities cared what happened to dragons like them.

A door slid open and Uttenu’s boss stood in the doorway.

An imposing Ridgeback, Pafirian’s bright red and gold coloration was striking against the dull gray of his surroundings. But his expression was cheerful, his mouth bared in a smile.

“Come in, Uttenu,” he said, not unkindly, and Uttenu followed.

He’d only seen this office a couple times before, but truth be told, there wasn’t much to see. Pafirian was a minimalist. There were no books or shelves full of spells. Just a stack of papers on a desk with some quills and ink. Sometimes Uttenu wondered what his boss did all day.

“Uttenu, you’ve been a fantastic member of the Society for several years now,” said Pafirian, and only now did Uttenu notice there was a folder open in front of him, with an image of Uttenu prominently displayed. Pafirian flipped through it idly. “You had a rocky start,” he continued, “but none of that matters now. What matters is that you’re ready for the next level.”

Uttenu could hardly breathe. So he was getting the promotion.

“Needless to say, along with your new responsibilities come certain… benefits,” said Pafirian silkily. “Delia will receive a place in the Cloudscrape members-only school, for one.”

He pushed a pamphlet towards Uttenu, and the Imperial gazed down upon a depiction of happy hatchlings playing in a field. It was even better than he’d imagined. The words CLOUDSCRAPE LIGHTNING ACADEMY were emblazoned in huge font above the picture.

This was simply the best school in the whole territory.

He tried to keep his emotions in check but must have failed. “I know, I know,” said Pafirian. “It’s a fantastic opportunity for her. Opens a lot of doors. Doors that could lead to a position here one day, maybe.”

Pafirian pushed another pamphlet towards Uttenu.

“We’ll also be transferring your parents’ care to Cloudscrape Medical. They’ll have access to the most cutting edge treatments. A new prosthetic hand for your mother, perhaps? And maybe we can fix your father’s wings?”

This time Uttenu actually gasped. “You can fix those?” he asked quietly.

Pafirian smiled benevolently. “That’s some of the work you’ve been facilitating, Uttenu!” he said with a tinge of amusement. “It wasn’t possible until last month, actually, but R&D has figured it out and we’d like your father to be among the first beneficiaries.”

Uttenu could hardly believe it. This was already exceeding his expectations.

“And for all of you,” said Pafirian, pushing yet another pamphlet forward, “a new home in Cloudscrape Gardens. Yes, we have real gardens here in the Expanse. Look, it’s like the Shrieking Wilds, practically.”

If the pictures were to be believed, Pafirian was right. Uttenu had had no idea this even existed.

“I’m very thankful for all of this, of course,” he said as graciously as he could. There had to be a catch. He hadn’t run into any catches yet, as a member of the Society, but there always had to be one, right?

Pafirian shook his head. “No need to thank anyone but yourself, for getting here. It is your privilege as a high-ranking member of the Society,” he said. “Now, I’m sure you’ll want to know your responsibilities.” He paused—for effect, Uttenu thought. “You’ll be working as part of one of our top secret divisions. We call them Society Intelligence, but they call themselves Cloudint.”

Uttenu had heard vaguely of Cloudint. He’d never met anyone who worked in that division, but he knew they helped protect the Society’s interests. There were a lot of groups out there who wanted to stop the Society. Some of the more zealous members said they wanted to stop the charge of progress led by the Society, but Uttenu privately thought it might be more complicated than that.

He didn’t know how he felt about this promotion. He honestly thought he’d simply become a manager. Their previous supervisor had stepped down last month, so the position did need to be filled.

But Cloudint? It was prestigious and important work, but Uttenu felt uneasy. He didn’t know why. Sure, he had reservations about how amazing everyone thought the Society was. But he wouldn’t work here if he thought it was evil. It was like most other enterprises—mostly a bunch of people trying to do good in the world.

It was out of his hands now, though.

“That sounds very uh, stimulating,” said Uttenu. He had to say something.

Pafirian nodded slowly. “It’ll be much more interesting than what you were doing before. Compiling reports on mining exports? A smart dragon like you ought to be doing more. This is where you’ll be able to best serve the Society.”

Not to mention those benefits, thought Uttenu. The treatments for his parents couldn’t come fast enough. And Delia, bright little girl that she was, would actually have a potential future if she went to the best academy in the whole territory. She’d inherited her mother’s genes, so it was hard to imagine her doing better otherwise.

“I’m looking forward to getting started,” he said blandly. What else was there to say? Everything he did, he did for his family. It was almost like he didn’t even have a choice.

“Good. Someone will get your things from your previous workspace. From now on, you’ll report to the 11th floor. I look forward to hearing about your progress after you get settled.”

And with that, Uttenu understood he was dismissed.

He took the pamphlets—his parents would be happy to see them—and left, his mind racing.

There was nowhere to go now, but up.

When he stepped back onto the lift—another innovation that didn’t exist anywhere else—he pressed the button for the 11th floor for the first time.

He was part of Cloudint now. He’d never see Solaria again—hopefully. He’d have a whole new set of coworkers. And Stormcatcher only knew what they got up to.

The lift shot up and deposited him at the 11th floor and he stepped out, having no idea what to expect.

To his disappointment, it looked much like the other offices. A few dragons looked up at him curiously. Uttenu supposed they didn’t get visitors often, much less new members.

He had no idea who to talk to, but a dark grey Tundra ambled up to him with a kind expression. “You must be Uttenu,” she said, smiling. “Welcome to Cloudint. I’m Shera, and I’m to give you a tour. Today you’ll just be getting acquainted with your new team and our floor.”

So he could relax a little today. That was good.

He followed the Tundra as she led him through the maze of desks and tables where dragons worked. She must have seen him staring at the work of some graphic designers because she paused.

“Airan and Ranwen help with messaging. We need the population of Sornieth to support the Cloudscrape Society’s goals. Not a lot of dragons realize that our mission is to improve prosperity for all dragons across all the territories,” she explained.

The dragons were working on painting a huge poster, spread over a huge table, which depicted hatchlings gamboling on a pile of gold coins. He couldn’t make out what the words said except for “future” and “prospering.” The Society’s logo stood out at the bottom—a stylized dragon flying upwards in front of a cloud.

“It’s um, it’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it?” he asked. “Smiling children playing on coins… shouldn’t you explain more about what the Society actually does to help people?”

Shera put a hand on Uttenu’s shoulder and smiled wryly. “I’m glad you have ideas. That’s exactly what I want to hear, so don’t ever be afraid to share if you want to say something. But I’m afraid you’re wrong here.”

“Wrong?” Uttenu raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Shera’s easygoing expression turned sharper. “Uttenu, you have to realize most dragons in Sornieth aren’t like us. This is the kind of thing _they_ understand. We need to address them on their level. The messaging department specializes in that.”

Was she calling most dragons stupid? Uttenu wondered as he followed her, continuing the tour.

The uneasy feeling in his chest twisted and intensified.


	4. Ayla

As Ayla landed in the grass in front of Berach’s home, the egg gently rolled against her back, inside the bag. “I know, I know,” said the Fae. “We’ll get you home to the temple soon enough. But I’m sure you’ll want to meet Berach too. And I can show you the place where I grew up.”

Indeed, Berach’s home was as familiar to her as the temple, and she unlatched the gate to enter the garden, where she knew the old Bogsneak would be working. That is, if something hadn’t happened to him.

But as she followed the freshly swept cobblestone path that led to Berach’s carrot fields, she could hear him singing, the words indistinct over the chattering of sparrows in a bush that rivaled the house in size.

The sun was lower in the sky now, and even the squat stone house cast a long shadow under the brightness. Ayla shaded her eyes with a hand until a copse of trees at the edge of Berach’s field blocked the sun.

“ _Orange is my life and work, orange on my silver fork. Orange as the days are long, hear me sing my orange song!_ ”

Ayla couldn’t help but be touched—this was a song she herself had made up as a child, not long after Berach had taken her in. He’d been a carrot farmer as long as she could remember, and even after she’d grown up and stopped composing spontaneous ditties, he would sing or hum this idly—as well as many of her other nonsense songs.

Instead of calling out to him, she started singing as well, joining him in a duet.

That caught his attention, and as Ayla gradually made her way toward him, skirting the raised beds now covered in thick carrot leaves, a smile broke out on his face.

Berach took her non-cane-holding hand in both of his and gently squeezed, his dry scales rough from the dirt and warmed from the sun. His purple scales shone in the sun, an orange glow suffusing them. He liked to joke this was due to his carrot consumption.

“Ayla, my dear, how are you?”

“I’m well, Berach,” she said. “I came here because I missed seeing you at the Bazaar today.”

“Ah, the Bazaar,” said Berach. “Unfortunately, you won’t be seeing me there often, if at all. I was going to tell you, Ayla, but it happened so fast…” He glanced over at a sturdy wooden table behind his house, in his garden, and Ayla could see some food and drink was spread out over it. Various flowers draped the garden fence and bloomed in clouds along the perimeter. “Come, eat a bite with me and I’ll explain. I certainly owe you that much.”

Ayla was unsurprised to see the snack Berach had put out for himself was carrot cake—an old favorite. He cut her a slice and handed it to her, then poured her a glass of hibiscus tea. There were many of those in the garden; Berach mostly ate what he grew himself or could trade for at the Bazaar.

Ayla sat down expectantly. It was like any other time she’d visited Berach at work, but also not. There was a different feeling in the air, a sort of tension.

“How to begin,” said Berach, after he’d cut himself some cake and taken a bite. “I went to set up my stand as usual just a few days ago, wagon and all. I was told I’d need a pass to enter the Bazaar. This was news to me, but they wouldn’t budge, so I paid, of course. But it was tough considering I’d also paid for the vending permit as well.”

“A permit for your stand?” asked Ayla, her heart sinking. She’d imagined several explanations for Berach’s absence and thought something like this might have happened.

“Yes.” Berach shook his head. “See, the thing is I actually knew they’d require a permit. They’d warned all us vendors several weeks before. They only accepted gold, which you know is hard for me, as most of my regular customers barter with me for what I need. What use have I for gold, except to buy rarer items? I can get all I need by paying in carrots, normally. But I had enough gold to pay the permit fee weeks ago, when they asked for it.”

“And that wasn’t it?” Ayla said in dismay.

“No. They told me, even after I paid for the permit, that they were auctioning off my space. See, apparently they levy some tax on the stands that bring in the most gold, which are given the best placements towards the front of the market. It isn’t like the old days, when we all just had an agreement as to who set up where. Since I was one of the stands bringing the least gold, my space was going up for auction. Whoever offered the most gold would get it for the following month.”

“And of course, you couldn’t give that much gold,” concluded Ayla.

“Ayla, guess how much gold my space went for?” Berach asked, leaning down slightly on the table and staring at her intently.

Ayla had never seen him quite like this; he was usually mellower and more easygoing. She would never before have described Berach as “intense.”

“Um… 20 gold pieces?” she ventured.

“Eighty!” cried Berach, throwing up his hands. “Just for a month.”

Ayla narrowed her eyes. “Wait… does that mean that Gaoler paid eighty pieces of gold to be there?” Ayla couldn’t believe it. “But then, she was selling jewelry, which she could obviously command a higher price for…”

“What’s that?” asked Berach.

“There was a Gaoler selling jewelry in your space. Strange to think she was the one who… But wait, she said there was a waitlist, and that a spot had just opened up a few days ago,” Ayla continued.

Berach nodded knowingly. “Which is exactly when they kicked me out. Usually they do the auctions at the end of the month, see. But they kicked me out early. They couldn’t have a lowly carrot seller who bartered—bartered, oh the horror! They said something about a new policy that half my sales have to be in gold and that was that.”

Ayla was starting to get angry. There was no reason Berach should have been removed from the Bazaar. He was well-known and well-liked, a member of the community. So who decided he didn’t belong there anymore?

Actually, that was a great question. “Berach, who’s doing all this? Why did it change so drastically? You said someone collects money from the stands that make the most gold.”

Berach wasn’t upset or angry despite how unfairly he’d been treated. Instead he chuckled. Perhaps a positive attitude was his coping mechanism, Ayla thought. “The Sunbeam Ruins Corporation,” he answered. “Look, it’ll be on your Bazaar pass.”

“I, uh, didn’t need a Bazaar pass,” Ayla said sheepishly.

“The Fae discount, eh? That’s a good trick.” Berach nodded approvingly. “Anyway, these folks are the ones who look after the Bazaar now. Those Pearlcatcher guards are hired by them. Supposedly they’re aiming to improve the village and vicinity with the gold collected from the Bazaar.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be so bad,” said Ayla thoughtfully. “Except if it means you can’t sell your carrots, how does it help anyone?”

“Sunbeam Village used to be a community,” said Berach with a sigh. “Truth be told, it hasn’t been that way for a long time. Not even when you were a child, though things were better back then. It feels like we no longer live in a world where we look after one another.”

Ayla’s heart tightened. Before coming to Berach’s home, she’d felt like she was standing on a threshold, like her life had changed irrevocably from the first moment she’d arrived at the Bazaar. The change was permanent, but she hadn’t accepted it until now. Berach’s retirement from the Bazaar would have come at some point, for one reason or another, and she’d never been looking forward to it. Especially not with it happening like this.

“Maybe we can do something about it, pay your fee…” said Ayla, feeling her own futility even before she finished speaking.

Berach just shook his head. “You and your sisters need the gold far more than I do,” he said. “We’ll continue taking care of each other. We have to, now.”

“Not a lot of people have gold here in the village,” she said.

“Some of my regular customers won’t be able to get into the Bazaar at all now,” Berach said with a sigh. “And the prices will increase as those auctioned spaces become more valuable. They say this’ll make the Bazaar better for visitors. They say Sunbeam Village will become the talk of the whole Light territory—and beyond.”

But he didn’t sound like he believed it, and Ayla was skeptical. If the Sunbeam Ruins Corporation aimed to help the people who lived here, starting off by deeply inconveniencing a great deal of them seemed like the wrong move.

But then she had an idea. “What if you went from door to door to barter carrots,” she said. “Or you could do carrot orders and deliveries. I could help you, or maybe someone else. There’s no shortage of young dragons looking for work.”

Berach tilted his head as he considered. “It’s very different from anything I’ve ever done before,” he said. “But I’m going to need to do things differently now. I’ll think about it.”

Berach wasn’t one to make decisions rashly, especially after something as life-changing for him as being uprooted from the Bazaar. But Ayla knew she would help him however she could. The old dragon couldn’t subsist on carrots and whatever other random vegetables he grew for the rest of his life.

The sun had fallen even lower in the sky now and Berach looked out over his field. “I need to finish my work for today, my dear,” he said. “But I’m so very glad you came to see me.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Ayla said. “I’d wondered if you’d been taken ill or gotten hurt or something.”

Berach dismissively waved a hand. “Nah, nothing like that for old Berach. I’m as hale and hearty as the day I was hatched.”

They stood, and Ayla embraced him as much as her short Fae arms allowed, and then she walked around to the front of his house again

It was all exactly as she remembered it. Berach hadn’t changed a thing. Sunflowers grew tall against the stone walls, while old lace curtains, patched and worn, fluttered out through the open windows. They’d looked that old even when she’d lived here. The little pond in front had a fountain which trickled, and even as she watched, a frog jumped from an unseen spot on the edge into the water.

Ayla was tired as she flew back to the temple, but her mind raced with everything she’d learned today. Surely if everyone knew what Berach had experienced they’d want to do something about it, right? But what could they do? This was the first she’d heard of the Sunbeam Ruins Corporation and she lived here. Who were they? Where was their headquarters? If they were doing good things for the dragons here, why weren’t they advertising themselves more?

It was all too weird. Ayla was a humble priestess, but she was no fool, and she aimed to look into the corporation more when she returned to the temple.

But her first task was to make sure the egg was settled.

The temple itself was built of stone and glass, depictions of the Lightweaver and some of her exaltees carved into the rock and painted on the glass. 

She went straight into the warm shed out back where the nests were maintained. No one was here right now, so she took a moment to just sit with the eggs, all of them pulsing and glowing with both light and warmth. Ayla had only ever seen Light eggs, but she’d seen drawings of the others and she thought these were the prettiest.

She carried the egg out of her bag and placed it among some others, giving the smooth, warm shell a gentle stroke. She couldn’t help stay with it and stroke it longer, hoping her love was conveyed to the tiny dragon inside.

Even as the sky darkened, the eggs put out their soft glow like stars. Ayla could stay here forever, but she wanted to do one more thing before dinner.

Despite the ache in her legs, she made her way to the temple’s library. Not only did they keep books here, but also the temple’s records. She wanted to find whatever she could on the Sunbeam Ruins Corporation.

Meanma and Berach had often told Ayla she could be a scholar. If she’d been able to attend one of the academies, perhaps. But she was loathe to leave her home even for temporary study, and she didn’t feel the calling strongly enough. That didn’t mean she couldn’t learn from visiting scholars, though, and spend as much time in the library as she could.

Some time back a scholar had traded them a spell to help with research, which Ayla accessed now. The pinkish-purple orb was kept in a glass bell jar on a curio shelf, alongside old artifacts from the ruins and crafts from the Bazaar. Ayla gently removed the cover and placed one hand on the orb, closing her eyes.

“Please illuminate for me anything regarding the Sunbeam Ruins Corporation.”

She felt the magic surge through her like a stiff breeze and then disperse into the rest of the library. When the magic had died down, she took her hand away, replaced the bell jar, and went to the shelves.

Various scrolls and books glowed the same purple as the orb. Ayla found one of the little library wagons serious scholars used and started piling her research materials into it. When she thought she’d gathered everything, she made her way to the reading area in the back, a cosy spot with various mismatched cushions on the floor and beams of light filtering in from a window. The scholars usually worked at desks, but Ayla needed to give her back a break.

She rested her cane against a shelf and lowered herself down so she was sitting next to her wagon. When she removed the first scroll and unrolled it, the purple glow became smaller and brighter, a flag telling her where to go. She scanned down to the glow and found something about how to create a corporation.

Okay, so it wasn’t the most precise spell. They had better ones out there, but even this one was a huge boon. And Ayla could certainly do with some background knowledge on the subject.

After she got through half the books and scrolls, it was time for dinner. She could leave the wagon here and come back after her duties tomorrow. While she was itching to continue her research, she couldn’t neglect her duties to the temple and her fellow priestesses. As dire as the problem seemed, she reminded herself it had already been going on for some time. She didn’t have to solve it right now.

Slow and steady. That was what she had to remember.

Putting more weight on her cane due to her aching back, she made her way to the library exit, the muffled thump of the cane on the thin rug covering the stone floor announcing her presence.

But then she heard something very quiet. It sounded like one of those rare devices that recorded music or speech.

Some instinct told her not to just call out. Someone was doing something secretive here in the library, unaware that Ayla was there at all. And they hadn’t heard her approach yet. Despite her pain, she put less weight on the cane and tried not to let it make a sound.

“It’s very, very bad,” said the voice, clearer now that Ayla was closer. “They instituted the pass system today and I saw lots of folks turned away.”

As Ayla got as close as she dared, the person stopped talking. She peered between the shelves and saw a priestess—she couldn’t tell who, as they hadn’t bothered to turn on the lamp in their alcove—crouched over a glowing device.

But the priestess turned to look at her with bright gold eyes. Ayla hadn’t realized the light from the window behind her would cast a shadow, ruining all her efforts at stealth.

“Lunia?” asked Ayla. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Um, what’s that?”

Lunia was totally caught by surprise, blinking at Ayla. “It’s nothing,” she responded unconvincingly.

Ayla was more shrewd than a lot of her fellow priestesses gave her credit for. She wouldn’t say she was good at “playing dumb,” exactly, but there was something very disarming about the sight of a young, cute Fae with a cane and an earnest expression.

“That looks like a rare spell,” she said, affecting excitement—though that wasn’t hard. “Is it one of those communication ones? Or a recording? You get that from the Bazaar? I didn’t think I’d ever seen—”

“Stop!” said Lunia, who immediately blushed. “Sorry. It’s mine, someone gave it to me.”

She seemed to realize she could just leave, so she shoved the device in a pocket of her robe and turned to go.

But Ayla wasn’t letting her go that easily. She raised her cane slightly to block Lunia’s path out of the shelves—not in a threatening way, but just enough to buy Ayla a moment of time. “Let’s walk to dinner together,” Ayla said eagerly, turning to walk with the other priestess. “I have to tell you guys about what I saw at the Bazaar today.”

Lunia seemed more relaxed until Ayla continued. “I heard someone on your device talking about the very same thing!”


End file.
